Wolf Like Me

J.M.Liles © 2025

Here it comes again. Another yearly

Reminder synonymous with that which

Has been lost. The new memories we will

Never make. Assumptions never dispelled and

Similarities unidentified.

The laugh rarely heard, never forgotten.

Instead, in its place, I have this same face.

This pretense, resemblance. Shape of her eyes.

Lateral structures, some repeat mistakes–

Like a boomerang, a curse. And a few

Expressions that I recognize though fear.

The curve of her lips, over bared teeth. Snarl.

A degenerative smile. A wolf's grin.

Challenge. Ready to strike, as she dares Them.

Through scissor-tight teeth, woven together

Space enough to justify precision

Threats, for which she would later pay in flesh,

That should have been mine. Guilt scars me instead.

For hers was a devotion imperfect,

Raw. Wild without remorse. Without mercy.

More fearsome than the reproach of any

Haunting by ghost untethered from the world’s

Diagnosis of martyrdom. She was

No victim and she was no sacrifice.

She was the Wall from which They throw themselves,

To escape her. She, a fortress for some–

Amity to those dependent on her,

A tomb for others. I am there. Captive,

Of a love unrivaled (except for grief).

There are none left brave enough to open

The vault, lest they too be stranded with me.

For as she burns, so do I—even still.

This, for all her fault, was our mother’s love.